


Favour Me

by bloodsoakedleather



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Explicit Language, M/M, Prostitution, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, Slavery, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:45:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodsoakedleather/pseuds/bloodsoakedleather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron gets more than he bargained for when Spartacus sends him to charm the secrets from Glaber's favourite whore, a boy of rare beauty, dark of skin, sweet of lips and temper of wild little dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You wished to see me?" Agron questioned, stepping through the tattered curtain which separated the modest chamber Spartacus had claimed for himself from the draughty corridor.

The man himself had his back towards the doorway but turned upon hearing Agron's voice.

"Yes." He gestured for the other man to come closer. "I have observed your restlessness these last few days. Idleness does not sit well with you."

"Nor has it ever. I would sooner be fighting than waiting round with thumb up ass for more pressing purpose to present itself."

Spartacus' lips curled up slightly at the corners, affording Agron a rare smile, one he could not help but return.

"A fact well known to all." He responded with an even rarer chuckle. "The purpose you seek yet presents itself. I would see ass absent thumb and you set to it."

Agron straightened his back and squared his shoulders.

"Speak and see it done." He said solemnly, the soldier in him stepping to the fore.

"Word has reached ear of a whore in Picentia. Dark of skin, sweet of lips and skilled of touch."

"Are not all whores skilled as such?"

"This one is special."

A deep crease furrowed Agron's brow.

"How so?"

"This one is favoured by Glaber."

Agron raised an eyebrow.

"I am to bring the woman here?" He asked. "She is to be held as prisoner in exchange for something of worth?"

"Glaber has nothing of worth to us except his life, and if he did I would not trust him to honour terms of exchange. No, I seek only information."

"You send me to charm the harlot into revealing Glaber's secrets?" His nose wrinkled in a fashion that made clear his distaste for the idea.

"Many a secret has been thoughtlessly whispered in traitorous ear in wake of passion when mind and tongue are still at crossed purpose. A man of Glaber's arrogance may see fit to boast of his prowess outside the bedroom even as he seeks to demonstrate it within.

The German snorted loudly. He did not think much to the roman fuck's prowess in any area and would say so were it not for more insistent thought.

"Spartacus, we are brother's, I would follow you into battle with not a moment's hesitation and I would obey any order given, but on this… I do not think I am the right man for the task. Surely Gannicus…"

Spartacus raised a hand and pressed hearty slap to Agron's arm.

"On this…" He interrupted. "There is no man I trust more, nor one better suited."

The German, for all his bulk and bluster, pouted like a petulant child.

"But…"

"The whore is a boy."

At this, Agron's tongue stilled and pout gave way to frown.

"I have not heard of Glaber favouring boys."

"Nor I, yet he favours this one. If any among us can charm this boy to disclose Glaber's secrets it is you."

A grin tugged at the corners of Agron's mouth and the furrow in his brow faded to nought.

"A task more to my liking."

Spartacus offered another of his rare smiles.

"Good. Set out after morning meal. You will be furnished with finer clothing and enough coin to pass for a man of more than moderate means. The boy plies his trade in one of the finer establishments. As you stand now you may not make it through door." Agron snorted at insult, though he did not take it as such. "Take care. The boy must be of rare beauty to sway Glaber from his women. Do not allow yourself to become too distracted by what he offers."

"Rest easy brother. I will be no more swayed from purpose by hard cock and tight ass than by rounded breast and dripping cunt." Spartacus nodded to indicate his trust. "What name does this boy go by, so that I might know when I have found him?"

There was a moments pause, then Spartacus answered.

"He is called Tiberius."


	2. Chapter 2

Tiberius dropped his hair brush, abandoning task of taming unruly ebony locks, and turned from his mirror when he heard the sound of horses approaching. He raced to the window, pulling aside the diaphanous curtain and peering down at the party which had come to a halt beneath, heavy sigh falling from lips upon recognition of visitor.

Gaius Claudius Glaber. A man he loathed above all but one other and yet, to who he owed strange debt. Debt to be repaid over and over in the only coin Tiberius owned. His body.

He squinted at the sun as he stared at the man below in attempt to gauge current disposition. Since accord had been reached between Glaber and his master, Tiberius had found it beneficial to know the man's mood in advance. Fair mood saw the Roman less aggressive, less demanding, made the encounter less difficult for Tiberius to bear. Foul mood saw the opposite and told him he should prepare himself for rough ride.

Alas, the man's back had turned quickly and Tiberius could discern nothing more about him than his presence. Better to be ready for the worst, he told himself, returning at once to his dresser to verify that he had sufficient quantities of healing herbs and ointments.

Satisfied that should the need arise, he could treat all but the most severe of wounds himself without having to await the arrival of a medicus, he took to his bed, arranging himself into a position he knew Glaber to find pleasing. One arm resting loosely on the cushion behind his head, one leg stretched out before him, the other bent at the knee, thighs slightly parted. With his free hand, he drew a thin blanket across his midsection, hiding his cock and balls from sight. It was a thing that suited them both. Glaber preferred to uncover him himself and Tiberius was content to let him do so as the blanket afforded him a few more seconds of precious dignity and more time to will his body into a state resembling arousal.

The second arm now joined the first behind his head. He drew in a deep breath and waited silently for his visitor to arrive, listening with an ever growing feeling of discontent as the footsteps on the stairs outside his door drew nearer.

At last, the door was thrown open.

"Praetor." He whispered in only half hushed tone, fluttering his lashes against his cheekbones and fixing a smile upon his lips that he knew did not reach his eyes. "Much time has passed since you last visited me. It had almost slipped memory how handsome you are."

Glaber's mouth curled into a smirk.

"An occupational hazard." He said, just a hint of cruelty in his voice. Tiberius felt colour rise in his cheeks, shamed by the Roman's taunt because it was true, in his profession forgetting the faces of the men who had fucked you was just such a hazard, albeit a necessary one if you yet whished to hold to sanity. Glaber removed his helmet, tossing it into a corner, then proceeded to remove the remainder of his armour and his tunic before taking to the bed, naked and already half hard beside Tiberius. "I however, am yet to be granted means with which to forget how utterly intoxicating you are."

Tiberius shivered, a discomforting chill had settled in the room, causing flesh to prickle and pulse to quicken.

"Am I to offer gratitude for the flattery, or apologies for same.?" He questioned, afraid that it should be the latter. On many occasion past, Glaber had expressed resentment towards Tiberius for awakening certain desires within him. On those occasion Glaber sought to fuck not simply for pleasure but also to punish, and it was becoming clear that this was to be just such an occasion.

"What do you think?" Glaber's response came in the form of another question, one Tiberius understood he was not expected to answer. "Your beauty haunts my every waking moment." The other man said, sliding a none too gentle hand over his hip and tugging away the blanket that covered him. What little interest Tiberius had willed his body to conjure, now waned in anticipation of cruelty, but the praetor quickly took him in hand, squeezing tightly until he began to swell once again. A whimper of pain rose in his throat but pride made him swallow it. The time would come soon enough when he could not hold back his cries, he would not allow Glaber the satisfaction of hearing them before then.

"I can no longer bring myself to touch my wife because of you." He continued, releasing Tiberius from grasp and moving to straddle the boy's stomach, hands slowly sliding over the smooth skin of his chest and settling at the base of his throat. Tiberius sucked in as much air as his lungs could contain, sensing that he might soon be deprived. "She grows dissatisfied with absence of my attentions, as does that pompous fuck she calls father on daughter's behalf." Tiberius could feel the praetors fingers twitching against the vulnerable flesh of his throat, then as he had feared their grip began to tighten. "Between them, they have the power to destroy all that I have worked to achieve and I fear they will soon conspire to do so, all because of you." His grip tightened further still, cutting of Tiberius' air supply completely. "You, who stands nothing but a worthless, filthy whore and yet can control a man's heart and mind simply by bringing his cock to hardness."

Panic gripped Tiberius. His hands grabbed frantically at Glaber's in desperate but futile attempt to free himself from hold. His head began to feel light, his vision burry, and he knew that if the Roman did not release him soon he would fall from consciousness, maybe even life and in spite of all he had endured in his short life, Tiberius was not yet ready to die.

"P, p…" He made attempt to plead for his life but there was not the breath in his body to see the plea into the world. It mattered not though, for suddenly the hand was gone from his throat and once again his lungs began to fill with air.

Coughing and gasping , Tiberius silently thanked the Gods for hearing his plea and allowing him to live yet one more moment, though the weight of the other man remained upon him, reminding him that danger yet lingered.

"Do you think it is easy for me?" He choked, his throat pained and raw, his voice hoarse "To so desire a man such as you? You said yourself, I am but a whore of no worth, and you a man of wealth and position. I know that you will never truly be mine, yet it does not stop me from wishing it so. It does not stop me from wishing that every hand that touches me and every cock that enters me is yours. It does not stop me yearning for you when I am alone in my bed at night."

The lie came easy to him. It was after all his profession, for didn't all men long to believe the whore in their bed truly desired them? Never before though, had the lie felt so necessary to survival. To have Glaber believe that his foolish desires were equally shared might be all that allowed him to continue drawing breath next time the man's resentment brought him to such rage.

Seemingly endless moments passed in which Glaber only stared at him. Tiberius did not dare to tear his gaze away, so he held it, as steady as he was able.

At last the Roman spoke.

"Prove it. Prove desire equally matched… Or see lie punished."

 

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Reviews appreciated


	3. Chapter 3

With not the luxury of even moments hesitation, lest the praetor read it as reluctance and therefore proof of lie, Tiberius acted purely upon instinct. He reacted as any in his profession would upon finding himself in similar position, with man astride chest and cock but short distance from lips. He reached for the man's engorged shaft, wrapping skilled fingers around it, and stroked. Evidence of lust already dripped from tip, aiding the slide of Tiberius' hand as it moved back and forth along the length.

The praetor's gaze yet remained fixed upon him, and his upon the praetor's. Pinned as he was to his bed by the other man's thighs, Tiberius stilled hand and lifted shoulders as far as he was able, tilting head forward and sticking out tongue to flick against the head of the swollen cock. Collecting up the some of the clear, sticky fluid on the tip of his tongue, he drew it back into mouth and made show of savouring it.

"Mmmm." He sighed softly. "I have never sampled the luxuries of a Roman feast, but the taste of you could rival even the finest food and wine, of that I have no doubt. I would taste more."

Straining his neck further he opened mouth and took cock between lips, swirling tongue around head and sucking gently, pulling back with exaggerated gasp and moan before taking it back in. A hand found purchase in his hair, tangling and tugging, holding him in place to keep steady pace. For this Tiberius and his abused throat were grateful. Too often men found pleasure in forcing him down on their cocks and ruthlessly fucking his throat, some simply mindless of his need to breathe, others like Glaber, because it excited them to hear him choked and afraid. He was certain that under more usual circumstance there would be no change but for now at least, the praetor was indeed allowing him opportunity to prove himself desirous.

Tiberius moaned louder, tongue working faster against the other man's flesh until he was no longer able to contain the sounds of his pleasure.

"So good." He muttered through harsh breath. "Your mouth alone could see a man to his doom."

The hand in Tiberius' hair tightened grip painfully and yanked his head back. Cock slipped from between lips and was taken in hand by it's owner, holding it just out of reach.

"I do not seek to see you to your doom." Tiberius murmured with well practised sincerity. "What I seek is to bring you such pleasure as you have never known in hope that you will never again wish to leave my bed or my arms."

The Roman's eyes narrowed, his look suspicious.

"That is all you seek?"

"Not all." He whispered. More lies formed upon his tongue, these unpractised for never before had he been compelled to speak them. He cast his gaze away, afraid that Glaber would see the truth in his eyes if he did not and hoping that his action would be misread as nothing more than coyness. "I seek also your heart. I know I am undeserving of such a gift, that I am but plaything for you to amuse yourself with when you are absent Rome but... I seek it all the same." Glaber stared down at him. He could feel the weight of the man's eyes upon him, causing him to tremble with fear and he prayed to whatever Gods might be listening that his lies would be believed. When at last he dared to look up he found the man still staring, curiously. "Apologies for speaking out of turn Praetor. I should not have…"

His words were stolen by the sudden crushing of Glaber's lips against his, tongue demanding he part them and allow entrance. Another test, another gauge of sincerity. Tiberius found himself repulsed, a kiss the one act he had always refused the men who paid for his company. He had always believed a kiss to be a demonstration of love, an intimacy shared between two who's hearts beat as one and even though, or maybe because he had long since abandoned hope of finding another heart that beat in time with his, to share such a thing with a man like Glaber for whom he felt nothing but loathing felt like a desecration of something sacred. The merest thought of Glaber's kiss sickened him to his very stomach, yet his lips parted in acceptance despite it. How could they not? His true feelings were of little concern if a kiss returned with equal passion could aid in convincing that words of desire were spoken in truth.

His lips and tongue moved against the other man's, coaxing from him a low moan and a deepening of the kiss, his hands clutching at Glaber's arms, pulling him closer to further convince. It was but short time before he felt the man's weight shift. Glaber no longer straddled his chest, instead he lay flat atop the length of Tiberius' body, their hips aligned. Tiberius immediately wrapped legs around thighs and thrust against the man hoping to gain friction enough to awaken his cock's interest in proceedings. It worked, just barely, but it was enough.

Tearing himself from the kiss, the Roman rasped. "You play your part well Tiberius, I almost believe you."

"I play no part, and I ask not that you believe me." This new ploy was not without risk but it was risk worth taking Tiberius reasoned, knowing that Glaber would see him punished anyway, nailed to fucking cross and left to the elements or flogged to death in the street if he failed to convince. "If it is your will that I should meet my end tonight then so be it. I ask but one small mercy." He paused for a moment. Glaber nodded for him to continue. "I ask that I might be allowed to carry with me into the afterlife the memory of our bodies joined together one last time in intimate embrace." The man yet remained silent. Tiberius offered one last plea. "Take me, any way you wish, so that I might know my last act upon this earth was to bring pleasure to one I… Please Gaius, I beg of you. Take me now."

Silence weighed heavy in the air, almost suffocating. Tiberius breath caught in throat as he awaited response. At last the Roman spoke.

"Turn over. I shall fuck you until you can no longer form thought. We will see then if sweet words ring true or not."

Tiberius did he was bid eagerly. Threat of punishment still loomed, reprieve far from certain, yet there was hope. If he could but keep his wits in face of oncoming assault he might yet greet the dawn with breath still in his lungs. He spread his legs wantonly, raising hips and presenting ass to Glaber for the taking.

As expected, Glaber did not take him gently. There was but fleeting moment for Tiberius to brace himself before his body was viciously breached and filled with Roman cock. Fingers scrabbled for purchase within the blankets beneath him, teeth sinking into soft flesh of lip at same time. Silently he thanked the Gods for the man, fat and toothless and unwashed but flush with coin from gambling, that he had received earlier this day for cock had loosened him well. But the man had not matched Glaber in size and coupled with that the brute force of each thrust, the pain was immense. Tiberius could not help but cry out but he covered the sounds with gasps and moans and pushed back to meet the praetor's thrusts in wordless plea for more.

Each plunge of the man's cock went ever deeper, the pounding harder, faster, vicious and relentless. Tiberius had thought himself accustomed to such, had thought himself able bear whatever cruelties were inflicted upon him but under Glaber's continued onslaught he was no longer sure. His jaw ached from clenching in attempt to keep screams from finding voice. His muscles burned from the effort of keeping still when his body's urge was to crawl away and escape the pain. He was sore, he had felt his flesh tear and was certain there must be blood, if not from wounds then from damage done to insides.

He felt a strange lightness in his head, air had become difficult to find, coming in only short irregular bursts and Tiberius feared he might not even live through the encounter, let alone until morning. He must focus, work through the pain and end this quickly. He must bring the praetor to completion while his heart yet beat.

"Is this what you want, whore? Do you still claim desires matched?"

"Yes." Tiberius' breathless whimper. He spread his legs wider, writhing on the man's cock, desperately searching for that spot deep inside him that would bring false pleasure, distraction from the agony of such vicious fucking and sign that Glaber would recognise as body's yearning for it. A low moan of gratification loosed itself from his lips when he found that place and he thrust back with what was left of his strength to ensure it remained stimulated. "Yes." He moaned again, his own cock now throbbing with need. "Yesyesyes, fuck me, please."

Rough, uncaring fingers dug into hips, hard enough to bruise delicate flesh. More fingers tangled in hair as they had earlier, tearing at his scalp as they wrenched back his head. Raising up on knees to ease the pull, Tiberius leaned back against the man's chest, head tipped backwards to rest upon shoulder as he bore down further on his cock. Glaber's mouth found the smooth skin of his neck and set to purpose, marking him with lips and teeth, causing Tiberius to yelp. He reached for the hand at his side, clutching it in his own and cautiously drew it to where his own hard cock jutted from his body.

"Only you Gaius." He moaned. "Only you can bring me to such a state." He had intended the gesture only as proof of arousal. He had not thought the praetor of a mind to heed the pleasure of lowly whore and was shocked when the man took him in hand and set upon the task of stroking him.

Hips jerked, body shivered, Tiberius cried out from the dual, disconnected sensations of pleasure and pain. He squeezed shut his eyes and set mind only to pleasure, shutting out all else as much as he was able. Pain still filtered through into his consciousness but Glaber's thrusts had slowed and now it was at least bearable.

"Sweet Tiberius." Glaber's breath was hot and heavy against his ear, sickening perhaps only slightly less than his kiss but Tiberius put it from thought. "To have you like this, breathless and trembling and hungering for my touch… It enflames my passion in ways I have not the words to describe."

"As your touch enflames me." His voice nought but a hoarse whisper, Tiberius prayed that this would be the last lie he would have to tell this day.

"I would have us find release together." The man said.

"Yes." Blessed relief from this torture. Where Glaber's fucking had slowed, it now became urgent once more. Tiberius matched each move, raising hips as the other man withdrew and plunging back down when he thrust up, making sure the cock inside him never missed his sweet spot. He felt the man's body grow rigid at his back, the hand upon his cock moving more quickly. It would not be long now, thank the Gods. "Please." He whimpered. "Gaius I, I… Please."

His pleas, as he had hoped, were enough to see the praetor to completion. Breath hitched at his ear, the man grunted loudly and when Tiberius felt him spill his seed within, he was finally able to see himself to release in the praetor's hand.

Gasping for air, he fell limp against the man's body, a small smile gracing his lips. It was over. For now at least. The two remained this way for several moments, Tiberius wincing when at last Glaber's softened cock slipped from his body. He fumbled with the corner of a blanket, using it to wipe away the mess he had made of both himself and the praetor and was about to leave the bed in search of wet cloth more suited to task when he felt arms wrap around him and pull him down into tight embrace.

This was new and unexpected. Glaber was not usually one for such affectations and it unsettled Tiberius greatly.

"Some day Tiberius, I shall take you with me to Rome. You will be my very own personal slave"

Tiberius went still. Did his ears deceive him? Did the praetor really express desire towards taking him to Rome? To be taken from squalor to live in fine villa as personal slave to one with wealth and position was a dream shared by many whores, but Tiberius had experienced slavery before and he did not know if he could willingly return to it, even if it granted him privilege.

"What of your wife?" He asked. "Will she not protest?"

"Of course she will. She will whine and complain and sulk like spoilt child at first, but she will soon see that she has no choice but to accept arrangement." The Roman pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Tiberius fought the urge to shy from it.

"How so?"

"She is vain creature who cares only to elevate position in life and she holds advantage over me now. One word to father and she can see me stripped of all power and privilege, but once I have captured that fucking Thracian I will be the one to hold advantage and she will be forced to set aside pride if she desires to stay wife to the man who destroyed Spartacus."

Tiberius paid little attention to gossip but lately it seemed people spoke of little else but Spartacus and the rebellion and he knew the man had proved quite adept at evading capture before now.

"You have plan towards the man's capture then?"

"Oh yes Tiberius. I have fucking plan."


	4. Chapter 4

It was late, the sun hung low in the sky and would soon give way to the rising moon. Agron had arrived in Picentia well after noon and had sought to fill his belly before he sought to locate the whore. He had spent some hours roaming the streets, speaking with locals, enquiring where a man new in town might look for the companionship of other men and had been recommended several different establishments. If he was to locate the boy he would need to be more direct. Mentioning Tiberius by name had yielded better results. The boy was seemingly well know in the area and all those he spoke to were, more or less, in agreement as to where he could be found.

Now Agron watched the inn from the other side of the street until the parade of patrons entering and leaving and the raucous sounds that came from within assured him that this was indeed an establishment that offered pleasures beyond drinking and gambling. His mind revisited the responses that had met his enquiries, directions given and other visual means by which he might recognise the exact place. Once he was as certain as he could be that this was the particular establishment he sought, he drew his cloak around himself and crossed the street.

Once inside, he gave pause to survey his surroundings. He was not a man who frequented brothels often but he was not a stranger to them either and this one was, as Spartacus had said, finer than most. That is to say it was not caked in layers of filth and the boys that writhed and bounced upon the laps of older, rougher men were pretty and did not appear riddled with disease.

One boy in particular caught his eye. Could this be Tiberius he wondered? He currently straddled the thighs, not fucking, just sitting, of a much larger man, dark skinned, broad of chest and with braided hair that fell below his shoulders. The boy was dark of skin too, slender in the hips, hair curly and wild and sticking up in all directions and though he was not the rare beauty Agron had expected, he was a beauty none the less. Certainly the boy would have stirred his cock to life in another time, a time before Spartacus and the rebellion had caused him to think of such base desires as dangerous distraction. Now, instead of raising his cock he raised little more than an appreciative eyebrow.

Carefully, he weaved his way between the tables and those at them who drank, fucked and gambled, and found a space at the bar.

"Wine." He ordered, leaning back and stealing another glance at the boy. "Your finest." The boy seemed content, happy even, in the other man's arms, his smile was unforced, he gazed upon him with obvious affection, smiling and leaning into each touch and touching back whenever he could.

"You seek company as well as wine?" A gruff voice asked behind him as he set a cup down at his elbow.

Agron turned now and addressed the inn keep directly.

"I spend much time upon the road. It has been a while since I found opportunity to indulge in more than the cheapest of wine." He took a sip from his cup and grinned. "I hear tale of a whore named Tiberius. People say there is none to rival him in beauty or skill." He continued.

The inn keep guffawed loudly.

"Everyone had heard tale of Tiberius. And people speak the truth. Men come from far and wide in search of his company, even praetors, but few can afford him. He does not come cheap."

The mere mention of the praetor raised fucking hackle but a swift reminder of his mission enabled him to temper his loathing of the man.

"I have the coin." Agron said tersely, reaching into the purse at his waist for said coin and slapping it down on the bar.

The inn keep eyed first the coin, then Agron.

"He is choosey too. Coin alone might not be enough." He took the coin anyway, then stuck his fingers in his mouth and produced a shrill whistle. The boy Agron had been watching turned abruptly. When the inn keep beckoned him over he disentangled himself from his companion and made his way towards them. "Pietros." So, not Tiberius then. "Take this man upstairs and see if Tiberius will have him."

"Yes Master." The boy nodded obediently.

"And when you return, tell Barca if he wishes to avail himself of your company for any longer this day, he will have to fucking pay for it like everyone else."

Some of the light vanished from the boys eyes at that, but he nodded once again.

"Yes Master." He repeated, gesturing to Agron to follow him. "This way." Pietros led him towards the rear of the building, along a short corridor and up a flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs was another corridor and at the end, a door. "Tiberius has a private room. His Praetor demands it." He explained at Agron's surprised expression. It was not usual for whores to have private rooms, even those of some privilege, and he had expected upstairs to be nothing more than an extension of what was below.

"And your master allows it?"

"The Praetor pays him well enough." Agron winced and ground his teeth at further mention of Glaber but the rising tide of hostility was stemmed when they came to a halt outside the door. "Here we are." Pietros rapped lightly upon the door. "Tiberius." He called. "You have a visitor. The master wishes to know if you will see this one or not."

There was a moment of silence, in which Agron prayed to the Gods that the whores answer would be yes or his journey had been for nought. Then movement could be heard from the other side of the door and seconds later it swung open.

Agron was struck dumb at first sight of the boy. Tiberius' beauty was beyond rare, it was impossible, almost God like. He was small, slender but well muscled, his dark skin shimmered in the candlelight like a bronze dusted with gold, his mouth was wide, his lips were full and moist, his jaw was as a blade and around it, in loose waves hung hair the colour of a ravens wing. But most striking of all were his eyes. Dark, like spiced honey and warm like an early evening sun they had a depth that was almost unfathomable, promised everything, yet revealed nothing. Agron was mesmerized.

Tiberius looked him up and down, though he hardly noticed, then a small smile curled the corners of his mouth and he answered…

"Pietros, tell the master I shall be very pleased to see this one."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First of all, profuse apologies for the frankly unconscionable length of time since the last update. You know how it goes, real life intruded, as did a succession of minor health issues which were time consuming to get under control followed by a total loss of motivation and before you know it it's been a couple of years since you last wrote anything. Anyway, I promised I would never leave a story unfinished and I meant it so here it is at last, the newest chapter. And I promise the next one won't take as long to arrive.

Pietros cast brief glance at both men then scuttled off, with a chorus of soft melodious giggles rising in his throat, to relay Tiberius’ answer to their master.

Tiberius extended a hand, head tilting to one side slightly when the man before him, still mute and mesmerised, did not take it in his own. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Perhaps you would care to come inside.” He gave momentary pause before adding. “Unless you hold preference for having me here against the wall. I am yours to command but I assure you my bed is quite comfortable.”

Blood burning hotly beneath his skin caused Agron to flush deep red and long forgotten stirrings of lusty arousal to curl low in his belly.

“B, bed.” He croaked, mouth so dry as to make words difficult if not impossible.

The boy’s smile grew wider, his hand reached out yet further and captured Agron’s, leading him slowly into the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

“Will you remove your cloak? Or do you intend to remain fully clothed?” The gladiator blinked twice then shook his head wordlessly. In his head a voice that sounded like his own cursed and named him dumb fuck. The boy smiled, no smirked, again. He was doubtless well accustomed to men losing their tongues before him, indeed it appeared to amuse him to have it so. Knowing this made Agron prickle with combination of embarrassment and anger yet still he found himself without voice. “Then, if it please you master, perhaps you would allow me to assist you in undressing.”

A strong yet slender hand slipped beneath the wool of his cloak and made to travel higher. Without conscious thought Agron slapped his hand hard atop the boys, halting it’s journey.

“I am master to no man.” He hissed roughly, first words proper and unprompted to pass lips since beauty had stolen breath. The boy started briefly and lowered his gaze, seeming now uncertain of his actions. Agron supposed that in his position all men were masters to this boy and he wanted to rage against it, to tell the boy it should not be that way, that no man should be master of another, but that was not his mission. His mission was only to glean information, if indeed there were any. “Agron.” He said, his tone softer than before. “I am called Agron, and I have no desire towards power or control. I seek only pleasure.”

This seemed to ease the boys tension and he lifted his gaze once more, dark eyes warm and smiling, lashes fluttering delicately against his cheekbones.

“Then I respectfully request the pleasure of flesh revealed to eager gaze.” Upon Agron’s reply, a simple nod, the boy Tiberius returned to earlier task, hands sliding across plains of muscled chest and over strong broad shoulders until the cloak slipped off and fell to puddle at its owners feet.

Tiberius sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening to take in the sight. He had spent his life as little more than a plaything, an instrument of pleasure for others to use at their will. Never had he been allowed desires of his own. In truth he was no longer certain he was able to feel desire. It had been so long since he had felt anything but shame and disgust that he thought perhaps he was ruined in that regard. And yet, in rare moments of loneliness Tiberius would try to imagine what kind of a man might illicit such a reaction in him. He fancied that should such a man exist, he might look something like this one.

The man was built as a gladiator, solid and tan and strong with a deep scar marking one shoulder and eyes that spoke of terrible sorrow. He was beautiful in his own way. And had he not already claimed to have no intentions towards control? Tiberius could not help but hope that perhaps, just this once that pleasure might be mutual, that he might find some small measure of satisfaction with this man who called himself Agron.

Slowly and with great reverence he trailed a single fingertip down the man’s arm from shoulder to wrist, marvelling at the restrained strength he found there and wondering what it might feel like to be held in tender embrace by those arms.

With some reluctance he let go his pointless wonderings and prayed the man would at least treat him well enough that he might return to such idle fancies on some future occasion should he wish to escape the reality of his life.

Setting mind to present task, Tiberius clasped fingers around muscular forearm, wrist twisting, thumb caressing pulse point then twisting yet again to stroke fingers downwards across palm. He heard the man take breath, felt him tremble under touch and upon further glance saw green eyes almost black with desire.

Lips curling slightly to gentle smile, Tiberius picked up his companions other hand and tugged him forward.

“Tell me, how is it that you come to seek my services?” He asked, flattering words part of the service he offered and yet this time spoken with genuine interest. “You are a handsome man. I would expect there to be no shortage of people eager to warm your bed.”

Agron found himself tripping over tongue again, several moment passing before he was able to formulate suitable response.

“My work keeps me busy.”

“And what is your work?”

“I, uh, I...” For just a moment he forgot the lie he and Spartacus had constructed before he left to conceal his true identity. The lapse in memory was thankfully brief. “I am a, a blacksmith. “ He stuttered.

“Well, blacksmith, I am glad to have you kept so busy for otherwise you may not have found your way to my door. Come.” He murmured. “Let us move this to the bed where we might both find comfort. I find it aids in pursuit of pleasure”

Agron complied in silence for he had used up what few words he could muster and was dumb once more. As he allowed himself to be led he forced himself to remember his purpose here. He had come not to fuck but to learn secrets, and he had sworn to Spartacus that he would not be swayed from task by cock or ass but fuck the gods, this boy was a temptation like no other and Agron feared he had not the will to resist.

Furthermore, this boy was no empty headed beauty. He was clever and alert, aware of his power over men and, Agron suspected, aware of a great many other things. He would likely not charm anything from him with just sweet words and leading questions, he would need to use his cunning also. Perhaps, he mused, bedding the boy and fucking him until he was dizzy with pleasure and utterly spent might be a plan that held merit after all.

While Tiberius’ hands busied themselves at Agron’s waist, Agron’s hands busied themselves in Tiberius’ hair. At first, the touch was gentle, not unpleasant but experience told Tiberius that it would not remain so. He steeled himself in anticipation of rougher touch and continued on in his task. Through the man’s breeches he felt a cock of girth and length to suit it’s owner. It was no surprise to find it hard already nor once it sprang free to find it appeared bigger than first imagined. Tiberius shuddered, part fear and part uncommon arousal, to think of it inside him.

Reaching out to touch, he wrapped fingers around the base. The big man gasped and trembled before him. Now, thought Tiberius, hand in hair would tangle and tear and he found that though it usually discomforted him, this time he could not bring himself to mind. The touch did remain gentle however, to his great surprise, it tickled and caressed in manner he found strangely pleasurable and he leaned unconsciously into it, a soft sigh on his lips.

The boy’s sigh sounded as a plea and touch of fingers to aching flesh produced similar sound in Agron. His desire was fierce, he hungered for this boy in every way possible, could scarcely wait to have him writhing and breathless beneath him.

“I want to see you.” His voice roughened by lust, little more than a whisper, desperate.

“Yes.” Hoarse, whiney, similarly desperate.

Tiberius shuffled back, tongue darting out to moisten dry lips as he lay down, arms stretching above head, chest heaving. Agron drank in the sight, his own chest heaving, cock throbbing. A step nearer, he moved to join the boy on the bed but a commotion outside the door halted him.

Momentarily the door crashed open and in barrelled Pietros, hands flailing windy.

“Apologies sir.” His garbling directed at Agron . “You must leave immediately. Tiberius, your Praetor has arrived ahead of time. He sent a man ahead to ensure you are ready for him. He is but minutes away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews appreciated


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